Hello everyone! Sorry I took so long, I just...well, I don't really have an excuse. Feel free to slap me. Anyway, I'm so glad this is getting such a good response from you guys! Thank you to everyone who has followed and left reviews, I appreciate you greatly *hugs* Hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Unfortunately, glee is still owned by Ryan Murphy.
Chapter 2
Rachel stared blankly, unresponsive. "Our visions?"
"That's right." She stuttered for a moment, finding her voice. "B-but I thought…"
"Whatever you thought, you thought wrong," Mike placed his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her, his face contorted in a seriousness she'd never seen from the best dancer in her class. "Look," He began. "This is much more dangerous than you're making it out to be. I've been having visions for as long as I remember. You can't stop them, you can't erase them, but you can learn to control them." She was attentive now, her face as grave as his. "You can?"
"Yes," He drew out his next words to make sure she understood. "But...even once you do, you can't always keep your composure. Sometimes…sometimes it's too much." A thick silence hung in the air, so heavy it threatened to suffocate them, until she pulled away rather aggressively. "This is some kind of trick, isn't it?" She snapped. "What?! No, Rachel, I-"
"You jocks think you're so funny, don't you? Picking on the little people, stepping on us so you feel bigger. I thought you were better than that, Mike Chang! After three years, I thought we were friends!" He interjected feebly, protesting. "I am your friend Rachel; if you would just listen-"She would have none of it, it seemed, because she proceeded to screech. "But apparently I was wrong about you!"
She turned on her heel and stomped off to the nurse's office, probably to lie down for a rest after the traumatic episode, he thought. Slamming his back against the locker, Mike ran his hands over his fatigued face, groaning in exasperation. Of course she wouldn't listen, he scolded himself. This is Rachel Berry, for crying out loud! After being relentlessly bullied for the majority of her high school experience, she was bound to have trust issues. Why had he even tried?
Sighing deeply, he pulled himself away from the lockers (although it was awfully tempting to just slide down to the floor and fall asleep) and began making his way back to the choir room.
Maybe he'd try again tomorrow.
*X*
The dream came again that night.
Rachel shot bolt upright in bed once again, her breathing labored and her forehead drenched in sweat. She tangled her fingers in her sheets, still trying to rid herself of the growing apprehension in the pit of her stomach.
"I don't want to do this, Eric," A soft, velvety voice, one certainly too timid to be her own, resonated in her throat. "What do you mean?" A rougher voice replied. The moon was concealed by ominous clouds, making it too dark to see, but she could feel him there, his height looming over her. He was probably leering, looking her up and down like he always did, she thought bitterly, but now was not the time. She swallowed, her words laced with more resolve this time. "I mean that I don't want this life. I know what you have planned for me, Eric, and it's so very kind of you to offer so much, but I don't want fancy dresses or servants or a big house with a chandelier. I want happiness, and I can never find that with you."
"But I assure you that you're wrong."
At the sound of the threatening growl that was Eric's reply, she began to regret her words, but she pushed on. "I don't love you, Eric. You know that. I love Daniel, and I want to be with him." She shifted, waiting anxiously for his next reply. "The stable boy?" He scoffed. "Alice, you're joking. What can he give you? What is a life of poverty compared to what I offer?" She refused to look at him. "I'll be happier." All traces of determination in her voice had disintegrated, replaced by tangible fear. "So? I love you, Alice. Doesn't that make you happy?"
"It doesn't matter. I want to be with Daniel, not you. And until you let me go, I will never be happy."
She heard herself shriek as her back was forced against a tree. The same calloused, rough hand from before clamped around her neck. "You worthless little whore," Eric growled. Anger bubbled in her chest, and the urge to kick him where the sun didn't shine was strong, but she resisted. It would only anger him more, and the more furious he was, the more trouble she was in. "You're just a spoiled little brat who gets whatever you want, aren't you? Maybe I won't give you all those things. Instead, I'll let you be a maid in my family's mansion. Yes, that's it. You'll give me an heir and then you can rot in the dirt without your precious Daniel."
He pressed her harder against the tree, and she felt the bark digging into her skin. His face was inches from hers now, his breath hot on her face. "Bitch," He growled, releasing his hold on her. She gasped, greedily sucking in the night air he'd nearly taken from her completely. Her neck ached where his hand had been, and it was probably bruised, but she'd live. Tomorrow, she'd find Daniel and they'd escape; they'd change their names and build a life for themselves somewhere far from this wretched village, far enough that no one would know their names.
She looked ahead into the quiet darkness. It was still and peaceful, as if nothing had happened.
Eric was nowhere in sight. She was safe.
Confused and tired, Rachel climbed out of bed, careful not to wake her dads, and flicked on the light. She approached the mirror on her dresser, studying herself. Sure enough, purple, finger-shaped marks adorned her neck where the mystery man's hand had gripped it so tightly, just as she'd thought there would be in her dream. She pressed down on one of them, wincing as very real pain shot through her.
"Mike was right," She thought ruefully. "These are no ordinary dreams. And judging by that almost disturbed feeling in my gut, they're not dreams at all….
"Whatever they are, they're completely real."
*X*
"Rachel, what are you doing?"
Rachel's eyes snapped up from the book in her hand, only to meet the accusing blue eyes of Kurt, followed by Mercedes' stern stare. "Nothing," She muttered. She returned her attention to the book, careful to hide the cover. Kurt, unfortunately, did not miss this. Without hesitation, he snapped the old book straight out of his friend's hands, ignoring her cry of protest ("HEY!") and studied the cover. "Theories on Astral Projection," He read aloud. He raised an eyebrow. "Really, Rach? You've never been into this kind of thing. What's going on?" Glaring as fiercely as she could, Rachel swiftly snatched her book right back.
"None of your business," She growled, sticking her nose back in the book. "What's all this?" Mercedes reached over to the precariously balanced stack of books on Rachel's right, peering at the one on the top. "'The Pros and Cons of Psychic Powers,' 'The Many Theories of Reincarnation,' 'A Guide to Fortune Telling and Premonitions,'" She looked back at Rachel. "Are you okay, Rachel? First you have that breakdown in glee and now this?" Rachel tensed, trying to think of a lie. "Oh, I'm fine, I just…uh…I've taken up writing! Yeah!" She faked a smile (one that she was positive they could see through) and continued her lie. "See, I read this book a while back about a young girl who had psychic powers, and when I found it on my bookshelf last night, I was hit by sudden inspiration to write my own story, but I don't know anything about this kind of thing, so I figured I'd better read up on it." Kurt and Mercedes exchanged a "yeah, right" glance, but didn't protest. "If you say so," Kurt shrugged. "Come on, Mercedes; we'd better not interrupt her creative process."
It would have been hard to miss the note of sarcasm in his voice as he and Mercedes left the school library.
"You won't find anything useful in those."
Rachel jumped, a ridiculous little squeak escaping her throat. "Mike!" She hissed. "I told you, I don't want your help!"
"I know," Mike brushed off her previous comment and took a seat across from her. "But you're still going to get my help." Before she could protest, he continued. "Because I had to go through this alone and it was hell. So I'm not going to let you do the same. Because you might lose your mind. I'm lucky I didn't." Rachel decided not to reply this time, keeping her face hidden behind the book. He rolled his eyes. "Look," he grabbed the top of the book and pushed it down to the table so he could see her irritated face. "What?" She snapped. "These books are useless. The people who wrote them have never experienced what you're going through. If you want answers, come straight to the source." Mike pointed to himself, his expression all business. "Fine," She set down the book. "What are they like for you?"
"What?"
"I said," Rachel didn't move her eyes from his face. "What are they like for you? The visions? Mine are…" She trailed off, her eyes finding their way to the floor. A rare occurrence for Rachel Berry. "They're horrifying. Yesterday in glee, I could swear it was actually happening. Some man was killing me and I couldn't…I couldn't defend myself. That's what all of them are about. No matter what happens in any of them, I always end up dying…or, at least, I feel like I'm dying. Everything that happens is happening to me, but sometimes, I scream and it's not my voice." Tears welled up in her eyes at the mere thought of it. "I don't understand any of it, but it hurts so much. Not just the physical pain, but I feel so betrayed and alone and I…I wanted to know if that's what it's like for you." He sighed, contemplating his next words. "Not…not exactly," He began. She seemed attentive, and without a second thought, he dropped his guard. "I don't actually see anything, but I feel things. It's this…this…how would I explain it?" He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. "It's like rage, but beyond that. This horrible anger I've never felt before; a painful kind, one that makes me want to…" He dropped his voice so low she had to lean closer to hear him. "Makes me want to kill. It's like I've lost something important, and I don't know what it is, but it's so important that the only thing that could ever possibly compensate is the blood of the person who took it. And I hear things. Someone calling out, not to me, but I feel like I have to respond. Like they actually are calling to me…if that makes any sense. And I hear screams." They were both silent, Rachel taking in his words and him trying to explain the sound of the screams he heard in his recurring dream and visions…
And then it hit him.
"Mike?" She asked cautiously. "Mike what's wrong?"
"The screams," He whispered. "They sound exactly like yours did yesterday in the choir room." She merely gaped at him, disbelieving. "You mean…"
"Yes."
"Rachel is the girl in my dream."
So there we are, chapter two. Reviews are appreciated!
